Scars
by WybourneObsessed
Summary: <html><head></head>Scar: 1. A mark left on the skin after a surface injury or wound has healed. 2. A lingering sign of damage or injury, either mentally or physically. Scars take time to heal, but how could you expect someone so young to heal so fast? He was only seven.</html>


**A/N: Ohai. We meet again. I just have to write something, dudes. Sadly, it takes a long, long, long time for me to get in the mood for it, which is the reason for my spaced-out updates. But- since this is a Wybie-centric story, I'll try and update more often! Because I know how EVERYONE loves the little guy. **

**But, yeah. Story of his life, pretty much. Enjoy~**

**BY THE WAY**

**This is what I picture the stairs to look like: http:/ .com/webimages/Freestand. jpg**

**The kitchen: http: /category/ kitchen-remodel/**

**Living room: http: .com/velvet_and_linen/images/2008/09/28/_mg_1187. jpg**

**And his bedroom: http: .com/images/Nagel-BoysRoomAfter. Jpg**

**Yeaaaah, minus some of that stuff, anyways. Your thoughts of the Lovat residence?**

***x*X*x***

At first, he did not understand why he was being driven to his grandmother's home way out in the Oregon countryside, where the sky was always a murky gray and the thick wet raindrops clung to his hair. The small boy sighed and focused his big green eyes to the ugly pink house that he could barely see through the haze of a downpour.

He was so confused. One minute he and his mom and dad were driving to the local carnival in town, and the last thing he could remember was hitting the front of the seat, the seat belt jerking to keep him from hitting anything else. He was covered in bruises, and he vaguely remembered something about having a concussion. All he was aware of was the fact that if he thought too hard, his head ached and his thoughts jumbled together in a twisted, tangled ball of confusion.

His grandmother was waiting on the slightly-faded gray porch, smiling warmly and sadly at the same time as she watched her small grandson waddle out from the car and embrace her in a tight hug. She sighed and picked him up in her arms, rubbing circles onto his back. He was her whole world now.

"H-hello, Gramma," he trilled, his face melting into a mask of shyness. This was his home now. She set him down and patted his head.

"Hello, Wybourne."

She smiled again and then turned to talk with the lady who had brought him here. Her name was Maggie, if he remembered right. Wybourne took a moment to crane his head back and stare at the dark blue house that was now going to be his home. He wondered where his room was. He had always loved staying at the top floor, because it made him feel like a giant when he looked outside. Wybie loved to see the sun rise.

After a few minutes he waved good-bye to Maggie and his Gramma led him inside by the shoulders. He grinned as he took in his surroundings. Maybe this wasn't so bad. The living room was bright and cozy, the fire glowing a lowered shade of orange; it made him feel warm all over.

The kitchen was tiled with a light brown, smooth wood, and the cabinets were made form oak. At least, that's what his Gramma said. He felt sorry for the trees that had to be cut up to make them.

His favorite part of the house was the stairs. The banister was tall and perfect for sliding off of. He would have to try it sometime. It looked fun on the movies.

But the best, best, _best _part of the whole house was his room!

When his grandmother opened the door, he gasped, eyes the size of orbs as he marveled at the sight. Blue. Everything was blue. The wall, the blanket, even the door! Wybie ran over and hopped onto his bed. It was the softest he had ever felt! He giggled.

"T-thank you so much, Gramma!" Squeezing her into another hug, he turned around at the giant window that stood opposite of the door. It was perfect for watching the sunrise and sunset! He couldn't wait. He suddenly blinked as a small black blur rushed past the grounds, through the rain, yowling. Was it an animal? He'd have to investigate it later. He was too excited! He never had this kind of house at home.

...Home.

Wybie's face morphed into an expression of sadness at the thought. His head began to ache, and he rubbed his eyes, trying to blink back the stinging tears.

"Wybourne, honey, are you alright?" his Gramma asked, kneeling down in front of him. The boy hid hid face in his hands and shook his head.

"I-I miss mommy... and daddy..." he choked on his own tears and they finally came hiccuping out. Mrs. Lovat frowned sympathetically, wrapping him up in her arms and hoisting him up. He buried his head into her shoulder. She rubbed his back. Her daughter always told her that it made him calm down. Eventually, she felt his breathing slow, the hiccups dying down to sniffling, and eventually it ceased altogether. He was asleep.

Mrs. Lovat sighed, setting him gently down on his bed and laying the blanket over him. He turned onto his side, his deep breathing putting her at ease. She left the room, clicking off the light and cracking his door, just in case. It had been a long day for her little Wybourne.

***x*X*x***

_He couldn't even crack his eyes open. They were much too heavy. What had made him wake up? He was sleeping so soundly... He couldn't sit up, or yawn, or anything! There was a strange beeping noise, however. It was getting on his nerves._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_He laid there, not able to tell how long, until his eyes finally obeyed him as he slid them up. Everywhere was white! And it smelled funny. Even the people (his momma called them doctors) were wearing snow-white clothes. For what, though? He didn't know. He tried to say something._

_"Momma...?" It came out a weak croak. One of the doctors, a blurry blonde nurse, smiled at him._

_"Hey there, bud. Already awake? Are you in any pain?" Oh, yes. His head was pounding, and his ribs... they felt like they had shattered. He attempted to nod, but it required too much strength_

_"U-uh huh."_

_"What hurts?" she asked. She was nice!_

_"M-my head... my tummy..." he murmured. He watched her through droopy eyes as she adjusted something to the side, and he felt an odd cold shiver sliver through his wrist. He made the mistake of looking at it._

_What he saw was a thin tube._

_He gulped, suddenly panicking. What happened? Why was he here? How did he get here? That stupid machine drew his attention again. It was beeping faster and faster._

_Beep, beep..._

_Beep, beep, beep..._

_The nice nurse looked a little concerned. "Hey, hey. Calm down, Wybourne. You're okay. We're going to take care of you. Shhh..." She placed her hand on his forehead and moved the bouncy curls from his eyes. Just like his momma used to do..._

_Suddenly he was somewhere different. There was a sound like glass shattering, a wild jerk, and then a flash of white light. Even lighter than the nurse's clothes._

***x*X*x***

That was the first night the seven-year-old woke up screaming.

***x*X*x***

**A/N: So... How was that? Love? Tell me! Reviews, reviews! I love them! You know I do! They really help me update. I promise I'll update more often if I get lots. :] **


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